


Dawn

by 1863



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Homesickness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 09:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18233045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1863/pseuds/1863
Summary: Home is more than just a word.





	Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 100 words of homesickness.

Bruce finds him on the roof, head tilted back, hands in his jacket pockets. There’s a strong breeze up here, whipping his hair off his face, but Clark’s eyes are unblinking as he stares up at the night sky. 

“How was the patrol?” Clark asks without turning his head. Bruce has to smile; of course Clark heard him coming. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he replies. He stops when he’s within arm’s reach, sensing that Clark needed the physical space as well a metaphorical one. 

“Of course not,” Clark murmurs. He pauses, then smiles a little. “Would you tell me if it was?”

“Probably not.”

Clark’s smile widens.

“Of course not,” he says again. It's a sign of how far they've come that he sounds more fond than anything. He glances over but keeps his head tilted back. "Why do you never take me on patrol with you?” 

Bruce shrugs. “It’s not your job. It’s not your city.”

Clark stares up the sky again. There aren’t many stars visible, not this close to the city and not this close to dawn, but a few are twinkling through the clouds, scattered across the sky like a handful of tiny jewels.

“It’s not my home,” Clark says. 

Bruce stares at his profile, the sharp lines of his jaw and nose and cheekbones edged with pre-dawn light. The sun will rise from behind him, Bruce knows, and when it does, he’ll look like something being forged in flames. 

Bruce takes a deep breath.

“Gotham might not be,” he says, “but the Manor’s not really in the city, is it?” 

“No,” Clark agrees, and now the smile is in his voice and in his eyes as well as spreading across his face. “It's not.” He lowers his head and looks at Bruce properly. “Besides,” he adds, “Metropolis is much nicer, anyway.” 

“Nicer than Gotham or nicer than my house?”

“Yes,” Clark replies, and grins. Bruce just shakes his head. “Come on,” Clark adds. “You need to get some rest.” He steps closer and Bruce slides his hands under Clark’s jacket, settling them around his hips. 

“Want to give me a lift downstairs?” he asks, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

“Why, Mr. Wayne,” Clark says, locking his arms around Bruce’s waist as he starts to lift off from the roof. “Are you propositioning me?” 

“This is Gotham, Mr. Kent,” Bruce replies. “We see a good thing, we go after it.”

“And what happens when you catch it?” 

Dawn paints the horizon pink and gold as they hang suspended in mid-air. It’s cold but Clark is warm and so is the look in his eyes as he waits for Bruce to answer. 

“The same thing that happens anywhere, I’d imagine,” Bruce says. “In Gotham or Metropolis… Earth or Krypton.” He tightens his arms around Clark’s back. “We hang on to it, Clark. We just hang on as best as we can.”


End file.
